The rushing of cars and the fast paces,
The undissolved liquid and unending mazes,
The “I never said that” looking right away,
The “I promise, I won't do it again” last May.
Left out clueless, don't know what to say,
Beers on your table, my walls painted with gray.
Locked me inside your dark and twisted ribcage,
Genuine letters, in exchange of an empty message.
The needles of emotional abuse you buried under my skin,
The haunting moments: perhaps and what could've been,
Perhaps, you're just a victim who can't still find himself,
What could've been, if I didn't picked you out from the shelf.
One thing, I should be living my best life now,
If I didn't just let you in, and took a bow,
Last thing, healing is messy, but I'll get there,
You'll never find me again, not once, never anywhere.
